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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

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you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all.

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him.

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back.

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep.

Or so he’d like to think.

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately.

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it.

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him.

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank.

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut.

You don’t make another sound for hours.

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time.

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back.

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot.

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand.

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway.

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums.

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak.

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts.

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes.

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue.

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression.

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest.

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way.

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now.

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you.

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid.

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper.

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like.

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat.

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake.

Spencer is too stunned to follow you.

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous.

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction.

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal.

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive.

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that.

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief.

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent.

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out.

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow.

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away.

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door.

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom.

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins.

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed.

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back.

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist.

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion.

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t.

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with.

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt.

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide.

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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tarredion · 1 year ago

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oh god dont tell me people are going to start doing the reverse of "this can be interpreted a multitude of ways and that is ok but here are the facts which narrows it down to a certain nr of interpretations!"

((which would be "fuck you, they kissed, and that is the only thing you need to know, and that act was also needed for me to accept any other textual evidence for their feelings as canon, oh and also are you going to cryy bcs i personally dont believe your ace/qp/arospec theory can be true anymore!"))

cause thatssss baddd and erasing a whole bunch of context / evidence from the show a n d book

pls just be, idk, maybe a little bit chill about it? ik we all love the fact that our peeps actually got around to showing their feelings to each other but cmon

#yes they've kissed they've said it its all fine #but most of the things here were already proven by the text #yes also the fact that they dont talk about it #anathema got more out of them talking than they have ever talked about it #just cause we have a fact now tm does not mean you can go around being mean about other people having h a d other interpretations #when the facts showed one path but a broader range of interpretations #just cause its slimmed down didnt mean those people were wrong at the time #and it certainly doesnt mean good omens 'beat the queerbait allegations' cause it was never queerbait in the first place #it also does not mean you can go around shouting 'woo they kissed are u mad at us now' at people who weren't even saying they shouldnt #bcs being ace doesnt mean people cant experience other types of physical attraction #..its also not a one-up on someone just bcs u needed the kiss to make their relationship more concrete when that other person just needed-#-the other evidence shown lol #idk i had some thoughts #good omens #ive seen way too many jabs on tumblr and twitter about this #yes theyre still probably ace spec bcs angels are different from humans and that whole thing #they just happen to have romantic interests #long tags #sorry about that lol

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my5hiningstars · 1 year ago

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#i was looking through the at*ez gif tag bc i am hvaing a moment and y'all #their name spellings are a Mess #like we have for example 정우영 and 정윤호 and they spell it jung in the first and jeong in the second and then young is the same vowel again!!#and i Guess it's bc of yun vs woo and they're differentiating jeong yun but what if he was yoonho what IF #i just think the different spelling for jeong/jung within one group is very funny to me personally #idek half the others' names but i'm so glad i can read hangul bc otherwise i would be Lost #....i do find it half annoying half funny when people assume every u in korean romanisation is like.. correctly systematically done #like if it were the current romanisation official thing then he would be jeong wuyeong and that Sucks #so it always pays to check the hangul is what i'm saying #names are quite often not spelled using standardised anything or they use different spellings from different times like choi vs chwe #(tbh i kinda like chwe as a way to write 최 but i Get why it is choi since the vowel is literally ㅗ and ㅣ #and the fact that 외 왜 웨 are practically identically pronounced (weh) and 위 is like wee feels like a linguistic crime)#anyway it's interesting idk i'm probs stopping learning korean this sem bc there isn't distance learning anymore and i cannot afford to mov #wait i had a thought would it be wuyeong or just uyeong bc the second is Cursed

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zephyrchama · 2 months ago

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“This isn’t what I had in mind.” You hesitated to even stand on the rocky shore.

“Whaat? C’mon! Humans love swimming!” Mammon was not going to give up after driving you all the way out here. He tugged on your wrist, hoping you would follow. “Try it!”

“I’m good. I think I’ll stay here. Mammon, go have fun and I’ll watch.” You didn’t even want to sit down. It was enough to stand in place and watch the lake.

“What’s a matter with it, huh?”

“It’s too hot,” Satan stated matter-of-factly.

“Butt out! Nobody asked you.” Mammon kicked a cloud of gravel and stones towards his smart alecky brother, who just shrugged. “Why’d you even tag along anyway?”

A vein above Satan's eye twitched. “You came into my room, interrupted us, and dragged them away. Of course I was going to follow.”

Mammon dismissed Satan with a wave of his hand and shifted his focus back to you. “So the temperature, that's really it? Don’ worry, you’ll get used to it in no time!”

“It is too hot, yeah. I’ll die,” you responded.

“Quit bein’ dramatic.”

“Mammon. I’ll die.”

The lake was gorgeous, with views like you had never seen before. Truly breathtaking scenery that you never dreamed of witnessing in person. Shame that it was a lake of magma.

“Just dip your toes in. Do somethin’ fun.”

The message clearly wasn’t getting through. You exchanged glances with a sympathetic Satan while Mammon took charge, splashing into the lake with exaggerated fervor. “Woo! Yeah, this is it! You two, get over here!”

Satan took a few steps forward and let the slow-moving waves ooze over his toes.

You were content to stand your ground. Heat seeped through the bottom of your shoes. While things were shallow at the shore, this volcano was pretty tall and you were all rather close to its peak. The magma in this crater must go down deep.

“How is your swimsuit okay?” you suddenly called out over the bubbling gases.

Mammon managed to hear you from some distance away. He stopped splashing around and began floating on his back. “Whaddya mean?”

You gestured at his shorts. “Wouldn’t those burn up?”

Mammon gazed at the clouds and let the lava push him back towards shore.

Satan was able to provide a satisfactory explanation. “They’re imbued with our magic. If we took them off and threw them in, the residual magic would first burn up over several minutes and then the fabric would catch fire. Want to see?”

You considered it. This science experiment sounded better than swimming in a billion-degree sea, but then somebody would be lacking pants for the drive back home. “That’s okay.”

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moonlight-records · 2 months ago

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Princess Backpack | LN4 (SM AU!)

pairing: lando norris x biker!reader (they/she pronouns!)

summary: an f1 driver and a biker finally take their crushes off of social media

warning: minor suggestive if you squint

FC: none!

a/n: for @norrisleclercf1 as a treat for passing your exam!

yourusername tagged serpents_unite

liked by yourbestfriend, serpents_unite, and 1.1m others

yourusername late night rides are the best rides @ serpents_unite

view all 846,043 comments

user204 YES MORE BIKING CONTENT

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landonorris

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1.3m others

landonorris it's race weekend so have some throwbacks 😉

view all 982,305 comments

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↳ landonorris of course

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↳ landonorris hey oscar, HUSH! ↳ carlossain55 HE WHAT? ↳ landonorris NOTHING!!!

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landonorris liked this comment ↳ user597 YOU'RE SO RIGHT ↳ user973 wish this was twitter so i could retweet this ↳ user024 not lando liking the og comment ↳ yourusername HE WHAT? OH MY GOD I HAVE TO GO INTO HIDING

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, and 839,205 others

yourusername The choke hold this sport has all for a silly British McLaren driver 😫

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user20 OMG! You watch F1?!

↳ yourusername I do!

user256 What sport is this?

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yourbestfriend ME AND YOU BOTH

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landonorris sorry? lol

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, serpents_unite, and 1.3m others

yourusername everyone meet Shelly ☺️ still sucks I have no backpack 🙄 backpack applications are opened

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user024 SHELLY IS SO PRETTY UGGGH 😫

user694 the photoshoot is about to fucking SLAP I JUST KNOW IT

yourbestfriend AM I CHOPPED LIVER TO YOU?!

↳ yourusername NO BUT YOU'RE BUSY RIGHT NOW 😔 when will my wife return from war? ↳ yourbestfriend so my darling 🫡

user495 OH TO BE YOUR BACKPACK!!!!

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landonorris tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 1.5m others

landonorris i am certified passenger backpack now 😚🥰

comments on this post has been limited

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↳ landonorris you know it babe 😉 ↳ carlossainz55 BABE? ↳ maxverstappen you got a PARTNER? ↳ yourusername guess cat's out of the bag now.. ↳ landonorris haha yeah...well look at the time! Gotta run!

#starlight library presents;#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 social media au #ln4 sm au #lando norris social media au #lando norris sm au #startlight library navigation

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dumpywrites · 4 months ago

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Wanna See My Cat? - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: “Do you wanna see my cat?” You're not actually lying but he thinks it's a sexual innuendo.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, situationship-ish

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

a/n: I was contemplating on whether to actually add smut to this but I decided not to cause it's cuter this way and I think we could all agree there're plenty of bts smut but not enough fluff here! :D

Situationship was a funny concept. Either you commit or not, that was what you believed. Which was why you were not precisely proud to say that you was now in fact in one.

In your defense it had only been what, three? Four weeks? A month or so? Min Yoongi was this nice guy your acquaintance introduced you to. Gentle, could be hilarious when he wanted to, and cute. Although he could be a little emotionless at times, mostly he was a really sweet guy and you liked him a lot. In your other defense, you did not believe what you had with him could be called as a situationship. It was just what your friends had been teasing you about.

In the whole time of knowing him, you had been to total of three dates. The first being a casual “are you free for dinner after work?” kinda date, second a movie date, and third being a very chill cafe date. And in your opinion, you enjoyed all of them, you had the greatest of time chatting and spending quality time with him. But your friend kept teasing you otherwise.

Apparently your dates were considered too boring, too innocent for today’s dating world standard. You had not even had your first kiss yet and one of your friends was already asking about his size. Evidently, wanting to take things slow was a crime nowadays and you were lowkey getting annoyed.

Today though, your park date was cancelled due to the rain. You kept cursing to yourself at home when you saw Yoongi’s text telling you to do a literal rain check, seeing the thunderstorm. The outfit that you bought especially for the occasion failed to see the outside world.

As you stood in front of the mirror, seeing the reflection gave you a weird idea. A small Siamese cat walking past your feet, meowing adorably. Your pet cat, Zuko. A cat whose existence wasn’t known by Yoongi yet. The lightbulb above your head lightened up.

“Do you wanna see my cat?” You sent the text.

Yoongi texted you to let you know that he had arrived at your place. You recalled last time he picked you up it took him around fifteen minutes but this time he only took ten. You wondered what made him arrive a lot quicker.

You were giddy with excitement and took a screenshot to tell your friend. Instead of being excited and giddy for you, your friend sent a bunch of side-eye emojis. Well, they could be just teasing you but the chat bubble following afterwards had you wondering.

“Woo! Give me a rating score later!!!”

You crooked your head in confusion, but there was no time to ponder on your friend’s riddle when Yoongi was already waiting for you to open the front door.

“Hey.”

That hey definitely did not have to sound that deep and hot. You had to gulped your saliva down upon seeing him in his comfortable clothes. Since when did wearing sweatpants and baggy t-shirt looked so good? And did he just had his hair cut or was it just you? So many questions pilling up in your head.

You knew it was game over when he went in for a hug. Heavenly was the only words you could use to describe his smell. It was a mixture of his shampoo and his laundry detergent, and his intoxicating smell. It seemed like he didn’t even use any perfume.

“What should we eat?” You said while smiling giddily.

“I’m kinda craving some instant ramen?” He looked at you while lifting a shopping bag filled with a few packets of noodles.

Your eyes beamed. “That sounds really nice actually with the weather and all.”

“Alright cool.” He nodded. “Let’s cook?”

Yoongi was being extra touchy. You were boiling the water and he would swiftly grab the chopsticks in front of you from behind, making you feel his chest. You fully knew well that he could easily grab the utensils without doing that, but for some reason the demons were working hard at the moment. He even leaned his chin over your shoulder as you were chopping some sausages. At this point he could be doing it on purpose for all you knew.

He did not stop when you both started to eat. From the smooth wiping your lips from food to feeding you. Who was this person and what had he done to Yoongi you might never know.

Right after washing the dishes and escaping a few of Yoongi’s teases, you both chilled on the sofa. As you browsed through Netflix, you could sense him scooting closer to you. You could feel his body warmth that automatically made yours grew hotter as well.

“What are we watching?” He asked with a husky voice. By this point he was hugging your waist and rested his body weight on you.

“I was thinking some action? You love those right?”

“I do.”

You paused. Why was the tone of his voice sounded slightly off and why was he looking at you funnily?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He broke into a small smile. “Nothing.”

“Stop or I’ll make you watch Puss in Boots!” You whined.

And then it hit you. The cat! You were too busy being swayed, head in the clouds, fantasizing, that you forgot why he was initially visiting you in your apartment.

“My cat!” You exclaimed loudly, which made Yoongi jumped and sat back up from his position.

You missed the look of confusion in Yoongi’s face as you ran quickly to your room to pick up the furball in your bedroom.

“I can’t believe I forgot about him!” You chuckled with your pet now in your arms. “He doesn’t like roaming around, he mostly sleeps in my room.”

Yoongi just looked at you, quizzically. As if he could not believe his eyes.

“Meet Zuko!” You smiled, proudly showing your cat. “Zuko, meet Yoongi.” You giggled and shoved the cat to the man’s hands.

He stared at the cat blankly for a good few seconds before gently petting the creature’s head.

“Uh, hi.” He said, sounding lightly awkward. “He’s actually really cute.”

“I know right!” You grinned. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Sure.” He said, sounding a little unsure.

The man sat down with your cat on his lap, slowly stroking the soft white fur of its tiny body. You bent down, sat on the carpet on his knee level to pet the cat. Somehow seeing you smile lovingly at the cat made Yoongi’s lips curled into a soft smile as well.

“You’re adorable.” Yoongi said.

“He’s the cutest cat, I know.”

“No, I mean you.”

“Oh.” You shyly looked away, hoping the nervous giggles did not give it away. “Thank you.”

Yoongi chuckled and huffed a sigh. “I can’t believe there’s actually a cat.”

“Huh?” You crooked your head to the side, wondering what the guy meant by that. “Of course there is? What do you mean?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He laughed. “You don’t know?”

“Uh, no?”

He ruffled your hair and laughed again, this time a little bit louder than before. You were still stunned, too confused to process when he quickly pulled you in and kissed your forehead. Suddenly you did not want to protest about how messy he just made your hair.

“It’s alright, maybe next time.”

You covered your face with both of your palms. “What’s with you today?!” You said with your hands still covering your face.

“I like you.” He shrugged. “Might not be the most animated guy out there so I’m just letting you know.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m so confused with you today???” You said with flushed face. “Oh my god, that’s not the point though! I like you too!”

He chuckled. “Let’s just get back to the movie?”

The vibe after that conversation calmed down. Maybe it was the whole letting-the-cat-out-of-the-bag thing on your feelings making the air less thick. You ended up just cuddling, snuggling to each other while watching The Notebook. You both hated romance movies, but somehow finished the entire movie anyway after you misclicked it in the first place. It was nice and warm being in Yoongi’s arms and you were afraid you wouldn’t want to ever let go.

And it was finally time for him to go home. Crazy how you did not notice the time went by so fast. Heck, you didn’t even notice the screen was already playing another movie. How could you when Yoongi was caressing your hair ever so gently? Goodness gracious.

“Hey, I have to go now. Meeting in an hour, remember?” He tapped your shoulder.

“I’m not letting you go.” You whined, hugging him tighter.

He laughed. “Silly, I can come again tomorrow.”

You sat back up and looked at him. “Really???”

“I mean yeah, you don’t have work on Sunday, right?” He smiled. “If you want to, that is.”

“I want to.” You giggled.

He flashed his gummy smile one more time before getting up from your couch. You walked with him to the door and waited for him to grab his jacket. The whole time you were stalling, asking him the most random questions, and made the silliest remarks. You just didn’t want him to go home yet, especially after finding out that he liked you too.

“As much as I’d love to talk more about how much I disliked the whole education system, I really have to go now.” He chuckled.

“Okay.” You pouted. You watch as he got up from tying his shoelaces.

He huffed a sigh and smiled. “Come closer.”

You did as told without thinking and in a quick seconds, somehow you were pulled into a soft kiss. It was a soft peck and you could feel his smile through it. He didn’t gave you a chance to react as he swiftly let go.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Come on…” You whined again and covered your face in awkwardness, and he could only laugh at you. “Go! Before I lock you up!”

“I’ll text you.” He waved and you finally closed your door.

You found yourself giggling and smiling to yourself like an idiot. This was new. Whatever in the fresh hell was that, you couldn’t lie to yourself that you were into this somewhat bold and flirty side of him.

You casually walked back to your couch and switched the tv to youtube. As you let random science podcast video play, you decided to check your phone, realizing you had not text your friend back yet.

“What do you mean by giving a score?”

Your friend replied almost too immediately. You were shocked to see the usage of caps lock.

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW??????!!!!! WTF???”

“Okay, explain?????”

“Poor Yoongi has to deal with your dumbass 😔”

“Shut up 🖕🖕🖕”

“It’s a code. You say that instead of asking to come over and have sex. Basically the new netflix and chill.”

“… okay. OKAY???!!!!!!”

“Bestie, did something happen though??? 😍”

“SO THAT’S WHY HE TOLD ME HE WAS SURPRISED THAT THERE WAS ACTUALLY A CAT???? OMFGGGGGG!!!!!! ASFDKSPSKSG 😭😭😭”

You put down your phone to muffle your tiny scream with your knuckles. You recalled him mentioning a next time. Then you also recalled him wanting to come over again tomorrow. Needless to say, it was finally time to let out that one cute underwear you had been keeping in your drawer for months.

Thank you for reading! 🐈‍⬛💕

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #suga imagine #suga scenarios #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts suga #yoongi fluff #yoongi imagine #min yoongi #suga x reader #suga x you

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kwanisms · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober 「10:22」 — p.seonghwa

» ateez menu | seonghwa menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ naga!Seonghwa × fem!Reader wc: 6.3k summary: Y/N’s naga roommate is still trying to get used to the hustle and bustle of life in the city. He finds it difficult to go out and socialize as monsters aren’t socially accepted yet. So he tends to go a little stir crazy and get bored often. dinner time is no different when he suggests they do something fun. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food & alcohol consumption, snakes, snake behavior (literally. Not metaphorically lol), snake biology and anatomy; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this was originally Wooyoung when I started planning but I couldn’t get the idea of naga!Seonghwa out of my head so I swapped him and Woo, giving Wooyoung siren instead. Nagas are one of my favorite creatures/monsters/cryptids. I have a special place in my heart for naga!Idols after writing that Mingi one for the Library of Illusion. It’s just a fun concept. Thank you for reading! If you like this, please consider reblogging and supporting my writing! The next part is another member of Ateez and it’s going to be an interesting one, so stay tuned! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), table sex, double penetration (f receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (seonghwa is a snake man with two d!cks, they don’t make condoms for snake men. But they do make them for humans. So use them), multiple orgasms (f receiving), use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, etc.), that should be all but of course, let me know if I missed any. kinks: Table/counter sex + double penetration dialogue prompt: ❛❛ I’m bored. Let’s fuck. ❜❜

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You stared, dumbstruck, at your roommate as he stared at you with his bright, green, reptilian eyes.

“What did you just say?” you asked incredulously as a smirk started to form on his face. “I said,” he started, never taking his eyes off yours. “I’m bored.” Your eyes narrowed as you stared him down. “I meant after that,” you retorted. The smirk on his face grew even more.

“Let’s fuck.”

When he had initially said those words to you, it was after you had returned home from work, excited to have the entire weekend off to relax and unwind. You had been prepared to come home, make dinner, and perhaps curl up on the couch with your favorite bottle of wine.

What you hadn’t expected was for your naga roommate to suggest the two of you have sex to combat his boredom. That was the furthest thing from your mind. The idea of fucking your 4.5 meter long naga roommate had not even crossed the threshold of possibilities in your mind.

When you first met Seonghwa, it was like seeing the Loch Ness Monster or Bigfoot for the first time. Nothing truly prepares you for seeing a cryptid for the very first time. There are no preparation classes or exams for that kind of thing. You have to rely on your instincts and while every single bone in your body had told you to run, you just couldn’t bring yourself to listen.

Despite his monstrous stature and long, snake-like body, Seonghwa was the exact opposite of a monster to you. He was kind, courteous, polite, and quiet. He sometimes had a bit of a chaotic streak but he was great company and you enjoyed every second you spent in his presence.

When the Monster Relocation Initiative was enacted, making it illegal to discriminate against sentient humanoids, you found yourself wanting to help in some capacity because of your new budding friendship. You went through the proper channels, signing up for a monster roommate. Somehow, Seonghwa got matched with you and you were beyond excited to have him in your apartment.

Your ridiculously cramped apartment.

Not that it was cramped before, oh no. Before Seonghwa moved in, your apartment was just the right size. Perfect for you, living alone in a historic building renovated into apartments after the Monster Relocation Initiative was announced.

To you, your apartment was exactly the right size… for a single occupant. But add a 4.5 meter long snake-man and it started to get cramped real quick.

Not that you were complaining. On the contrary, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Seonghwa may technically be a monster but he was the furthest thing from scary. Was he capable of wrapping you in his strong coils, squeezing the life out of you and eating you whole? Probably, but you knew he would never do that.

The difference between most monsters and the ones protected in the M.R Initiative was that the humanoids were sentient, capable of intelligent thought and able to learn and distinguish the difference between right and wrong. Could Seonghwa kill you in your sleep? Of course, he was fully capable of that. But would he? No.

This integral difference between most monsters and the humanoids allowed most of them to get jobs and integrate into society. It was illegal to discriminate in any way against them, denying them employment, housing, or entry to establishments was punishable by law. They were legally members of society with citizenship cards, IDs and the right to vote.

Socially, however, was another matter entirely. While they couldn’t be denied jobs for being who they were, many places of employment found entirely valid, albeit bogus, reasons not to hire humanoids. This had been the subject of many of your conversations with Seonghwa by this point.

He often complained of boredom, being cooped up in the apartment all day. It was a difficult subject and rather sensitive for him. His lack of employment. Since Seonghwa moved into your place, you’d taken on most, if not all, of the financial responsibility, paying all the bills, buying all the household groceries and supplies. Again, you weren’t complaining entirely. You enjoyed having Seonghwa around.

He did wonders for your mental health, which was why you often sat and listened to his complaints.

The topic of unemployment had come up again while you sat at your dining room table, where you were finishing up your dinner, Seonghwa having finished a long time ago. He had been talking about his day spent inside while you were outside, at work. He complained of the boredom and you listened patiently.

“Come on, Y/N!” he whined for the nth time that day. “I'm so bored!” You swallowed your mouthfuls of noodles before giving him an apologetic look. “Hwa,” you said calmly, setting your fork down as you finished your meal. “Why don't you try again and find another job?”

His lack of employment wasn’t entirely his fault. He’d been extremely diligent in the beginning, applying for a plethora of jobs he was more than qualified for. He managed to secure job interviews left and right but each time after the interview, the result was the same and after almost a year of numerous failures to secure a job, Seonghwa became more and more dejected. More depressed.

While being legally accepted into society, Seonghwa was still not accepted socially due to his monstrous size and form. He’d been passed over again and again for job simply because he looked different. The more human the humanoids looked, the more likely they were to blend in and while the top part of Seonghwa was human enough, the other three meters of him was all too telling of his nature.

It had been well over a year since Seonghwa started living with you and while you were financially capable of handling the household bills until he did manage to land a job, Seonghwa was berating and beating himself up for it. He often snuck into your bed, at least as much of his body that would fit, and the two of you would stay up, talking late into the wee hours of the morning.

Most of his concerns circulated the same train of thought: finding a job and establishing himself as a member of society. He hated the isolation that his previous life forced on him, living all alone in the caves in the mountains with no one to talk to, being confined to the caves and starving until some poor creature wandered into his lair. He hated every second of it.

It was nice, having a warm body near you, and while Seonghwa wasn’t the cuddliest creature, he did tend to wrap you up in his embrace, mainly to keep from pushing you off your bed with the rest of his huge, elongated body. The amount of heat between your bodies on some of the colder nights was nice but it left you wondering what the line between you was and had you crossed it already.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't think about Seonghwa in that way. More than once you had walked in on him showering, water running down his human torso as he tried to wash only his hair and not get his scales wet. Not because he couldn't get wet but because he didn't want trail water everywhere.

You pushed the inappropriate thoughts aside as your friend started to speak.

“What's the point?” he muttered. “All I get is rejected. By jobs, by society, by everyone.”

You felt your heart sink. Your poor best friend. He was such a bright, bubbly person-- monster? He had so much love to give so to see him so down pulled at your heartstrings. You set your chopsticks down and reached across your tiny table to place a gentle hand over his that rested on the wooden surface.

Seonghwa looked from your hand up to meet your gaze as you smiled warmly at him. “I don't reject you,” you said softly. Seonghwa accepted your gesture, taking your hand in both of his hands and bringing it to his face, turning your hand over and pressing your palm against his cheek. “I know,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

As quickly as it started, the tender moment was over when your phone buzzed violently against the table. Using your free hand, you grabbed the device as Seonghwa stared wide-eyed, his slit-like pupils widening to twice their normal width. “Ugh. What part of working hours do my bosses not understand,” you grumbled, reading over your supervisor's text.

“It’s the weekend and nearly nine at night,” you added as you read over more of the message. “Well, at least I can handle this from home,” you continued when Seonghwa didn't reply.

You glanced up, mid-text, to see why he wasn't responding. He was looking at your phone, a far off look in his eyes. “Hwa?” you called gently. He seemed to snap out of it and look up at you. “Are you alright?” you asked softly. Seonghwa nodded, eyes fixating on your phone again. “That sound,” he started, voice barely above a whisper. You looked down at your phone and back up to your friend.

“The vibration? Oh shit! I totally forgot!” you said quickly changing the vibration settings on your phone. In the wild, snakes sense the world by vibration and heat signatures. Seonghwa was no different. He'd told you in the beginning how highly sensitive to vibrations he was. He also can see in the dark using heat.

“It's not that,” Seonghwa said suddenly. “It reminded me of… nevermind,” he said after a brief pause. You could tell something was on his mind. Not wanting him to feel like he couldn't talk to you, you locked your phone screen before setting the device back on the table, face down and giving Seonghwa your undivided attention.

“No,” you started. “It's okay, you can tell me.”

You noticed how Seonghwa's cheeks turned a slightly darker shade of peach. “No,” he said nonchalantly, waving his hand. “It's nothing.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to feel the weight of your stare which took less than three seconds. “You know you can tell me anything,” you replied kindly. “You know I'll never judge you.” Seonghwa gave you a very pointed stare, raising one eyebrow.

“Okay, except for that one time I saw you swallow three whole rotisserie chickens at the store, I won't judge you.”

A familiar smile broke over your roommate's face as he remembered the day in question. “The look on your face was priceless,” he mused, a giggle escaping him. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but the chickens weren’t,” you retorted, causing Seonghwa to burst into laughter. “I know, I'm sorry,” he said between giggles. “I promise I'll pay you back!” You joined him in his laughter a moment later, shaking your head as he laughed loudly.

The laughter eventually subsided and you got up to clear the table, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Seonghwa followed, leaning on his elbows against the kitchen island while he watched you. It was only a few dishes you needed to wash and once you set them aside and removed the gloves, you turned to find Seonghwa staring you down, his green eyes exploring your form.

“Hwa?” you called to him, drawing his attention slowly back up to meet your gaze. You saw the tip of his long tongue, which was remarkably human in color and forked, dart out to lick his lips. “I’m bored,” he said, making you roll your eyes as you moved to the fridge, your fingers wrapping around the handle only for his next words to make you freeze.

“Let’s fuck.”

You had been staring at him for a good five minutes, equal parts shocked and confused by his sudden proposal. “What did you just say?” you asked, your voice cracking as a smirk spread across his face. “I said I’m bored,” he repeated, trying to play coy. You shook your head. “I meant after that.”

Seonghwa’s smirk only grew as he stared at you, his eyes seeming to glow slightly. “Let’s fuck,” he repeated, his words taking all the breath from your lungs. Never had he been so bold. He’d never been so forward with you before. You felt a wave of heat course through your body, spreading from your core to your extremities and settling in the pit of your stomach.

“What… why… how…” you tried three times to ask a question but each time, the words failed you. Seonghwa tilted his head with a mischievous smile. “Snake got your tongue?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I – uh…” you trailed off, cheeks burning under his gaze.

“Are you always this eloquent?” Seonghwa asked jokingly. “What prompted this?” you finally managed to choke out. Seonghwa shrugged, leaning back up. You could hear the coils of his snake body slide over the wooden floor, the boards creaking slightly under his weight.

“I’ve thought about it all day actually,” he said simply. “Thought about what?” you asked, your voice cracking again. “Fucking you when you got home.”

Coughing overtook you as you accidentally inhaled your own spit. Seonghwa was by your side in an instant, guiding you to sit down at the table and offering you your glass from the table. You took a couple sips while he rubbed your back soothingly. “Does the idea of fucking me gross you out that much?” he joked. You quickly shook your head.

“That's not it,” you replied quickly, voice raspy from the choking and coughing. “I'm not opposed at all actually.”

You stopped, turning to look at Seonghwa who was now smirking at you, a devilish grin on his face. “Oh really now?” he asked softly, tilting his head. “Thought about me in that way, have you?”

Your face burned again, cheeks growing warm as you nervously pulled at the collar of your shirt. “Is it warm in here?” you murmured, looking down at your bowl full of broth that was now definitely cold.

Seonghwa's smirk grew. “It's a little warm,” he answered, reaching up to brush your cheek before leaning in, lips inches from your ear. “But it's about to get a whole lot hotter.”

You stared at the naga as he continued to smirk at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “W-what do you mean?”

Seonghwa leaned his upper torso on the table, the bottom snake half of his body resting on the wooden floor, the boards creaking beneath his weight. He cocked his head, still smirking. “It means,” he started, eyes quickly scanning your frame before darting back up to meet your gaze. “That I'm bored.”

His answer was anticlimactic and that must have showed on your face because he quickly held up a finger, making you wait. “Let me elaborate,” he added. You nodded, motioning for him to continue speaking. He lowered his finger, again scanning you quickly.

“I've always found you insanely attractive for a human. Normally your kind grosses me out or maybe they just annoy me,” he said, bringing his hand up to tap his chin thoughtfully. “Regardless,” he continued. “You're the first human to treat me with kindness and aren't bothered by my… unconventional appearance.”

You opened your mouth to protest his word choice but he simply took your chin in his hand, halting your movements. "Don't deny it," he stated, giving you a stern look. “You know that other humans aren't so keen on my kind. I don't look human enough for them. It's why no one will hire me and why you've been covering my ass all this time.”

Again you tried to speak but he gave your head a gentle shake.

“I'm still talking, sweetheart,” he continued, his voice dropping an octave. Heat rushed between your thighs at the sound of his deep husky tone of his voice. You tried to discreetly squeeze your thighs together but Seonghwa had always been so perceptive.

“Back to what I was saying,” he said, a smirk returning to his lips as he rested his free hand on your thigh. “I find you exceptionally attractive. Everything about you is enticing. Your voice, your eyes, your smile…” he trailed off, eyes lowering to your thighs clenching together. “Even your scent,” he rasped.

You let out a tiny gasp as you felt the pointed tips of his nails dig slightly into the exposed flesh of your thigh. “And judging by your reactions and what you said moments ago, you clearly are attracted to me,” he continued, glancing back up.

You pulled your bottom lip gently between your teeth as he eyed you. “Isn't that right?” he asked, tilting his head. You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak. “And so let me rephrase my earlier statement,” Seonghwa said, moving his hand from your chin to grab the back of your neck.

“I'm bored. Let’s fuck.”

You had no chance to respond, only gasp before your voice was muffled, Seonghwa closing the short distance between your lips and taking you in a searing kiss.

The hand on your thigh held steady, fingers squeezing your thigh as Seonghwa parted your lips with his and his tongue slipped into your mouth. One of the more unsettling features was his forked tongue. You'd never felt it before but you were surprised it was soft, almost like a human tongue only forked and much longer.

Seonghwa pulled back much too quickly for your liking, chuckling when you attempted to pull him back in for another kiss. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I'm not going anywhere.”

You whined when he dodged another one of your attempts to kiss him. “Hwa!” you whined but he merely chuckled before pushing your centerpiece and other table decorations from the surface. They fell to the floor with a clatter while you stared wide eyed at your roommate.

“Are you ins-”

“Get on the table,” Seonghwa ordered, stopping you in your thoughts. You blinked incredulously at him. “O-on the table?” you stammered. He nodded, standing up straight. Looking at the now clear surface, you looked back at him. “Wh-why?”

“Because,” he said in a growl, the hand on your thigh sliding up under your loose shorts. “This is the dinner table and I'm hungry.”

You quickly scrambled up, ignoring the way the table creaked as you scooted into position. Seonghwa was quick to pull off the shirt he was wearing. He only wore it around you at your insistence. His naked, toned torso was distracting at times.

“Take these off,” he ordered, tugging at the hem of your shorts.

You moved at lightning speed, pursuing the material down and discarding it on the floor. “These too,” Seonghwa continued, running his thumb over the thin material of your panties. You were about to comply when an idea popped into your head.

“You take them off,” you retorted.

Seonghwa eyed you, squinting suspiciously before he leaned over, towering over your form. “If I take them off, I'll ruin them,” he replied. “You really want that?” You shook your head. “Control your strength,” you answered. “Tease me. Seduce me.” Seonghwa laughed out loud. “You're lying on your back all but presenting yourself to me on the table, sweetheart,” he stated. “I think I've already seduced you.”

Wordlessly, you sat up, pushing him back. “Then I guess I'll get dressed again,” you replied, moving to drop to the floor but Seonghwa stopped you, fingers wrapping around your throat lightly. “Like hell you will. You want me?” he asked, eyes burning into yours. You swallowed thickly against his hand, nodding slowly.

“Then you're gonna lie back, spread your legs and let me tease you until you're begging me for my cock,” he continued. Almost as if his words were hypnotizing, you slowly laid back as his hand slid from your neck and down your chest to the hem of your shirt.

He pushed it up as he leaned over. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his lips leave light kisses down your stomach. “You want me to tease you?” he asked softly. “I'll tease you, alright?”

You let out a soft moan as his kisses moved further and further, skipping over your core and starting at your knee. You chanced a glance at him, moaning loudly as your gaze met his. His lips parted in a grin before he continued kissing down the inside of your thigh, stopping to nip at the sensitive skin, making you gasp.

“God, I can smell you,” he groaned, burying his nose into your core. “I can't wait anymore,” he growled, pulling back, grabbing the sides of your panties and pulling them down your legs, leaving a trail of arousal smeared down your inner thigh. “I need to taste you.”

Before you could respond, Seonghwa had your legs over his shoulders and face buried in between them, tongue easily slipping between your folds. You gasped out, hands moving to his hair and gripping tightly. “Holy fuck, Seonghwa!” you gasped.

He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations to his tongue. “I'm going to ruin oral for you,” he murmured, pulling back to look at your glistening sex. “From now on, only I will be able to eat you out. No one else will be able to compare.”

You moaned again as his tongue returned to your clit, the appendage wriggling and teasing the sensitive nub. "Hwa," you whined, chest heaving as you panted. His hands pushed your thighs further apart, opening more of you up to him. “Don't worry, sweetheart,” he replied. “You'll cum eventually.”

You felt his tongue prod at your hole and almost as soon as he found it, his tongue was slithering its way in, making you whimper, walls clenching as his tongue explored your pussy. “S-Seonghwa!” you cried out, back arching off the hardwood. He pulled back before your orgasm washed over you, making you whimper in protest. “Be patient,” he said simply as he gave you another devilish smirk.

His tongue was back on you in an instant, flicked your clit as his claws dug further into your skin but not enough to make you bleed. You knew you were going to bruise from his insane grip. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair as he ran his tongue up and down your clit, the forked, pointed tip a strange contrast to the oddly human feeling of the muscle.

Your hips started to buck, rolling against his face as your orgasm approached once more. Seonghwa groaned, letting you rut against his tongue, keeping his head still for a moment before he grabbed your hips, pinning them down against the wood as he went back in, lapping at your clit in rapid movements until the tension that had been building finally snapped like a rubber band and your climax washed over you.

You let out a moan that bordered on a whine as you tugged at Seonghwa’s hair, trying to pull him away from your sensitive nub as your body jerked in reaction to each drag of his tongue over your swollen clit. “Hwa,” you breathed. “Please. No more.” He obliged instantly, withdrawing from your cunt and kissing a wet path up your body. Stopping at the edge of your black bralette.

This needs to come off,” he murmured, taking the material in his teeth and tugging lightly. “D-don’t rip it,” you whispered, moving to sit up on the edge of the table, making him sit up straight and watch as you pulled your shirt off over your head, letting it fall to the floor with your panties. You held his gaze as you pulled your bralette off, letting it also drop to the floor. His eyes left yours, gaze wandering down to take in the sight of your bare chest.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he said softly, shifting to lean over you, his lips meeting yours in a much slower, more languid kiss as he laid you back against the table, the wood creaking under your combined weights. “What if it breaks?” you whispered against his lips.

“That would be impressive,” he murmured, lips ghosting over yours as he moved to kiss your neck. You could feel something rubbing against your cunt and glanced between your bodies to see the slit at the base of his torso. It was something you’d noticed plenty of times. The bump surrounding the slit wasn’t massive but it was still a decent size. It didn’t occur to you until then that was where his genitals were located.

Your head fell back against the table as he nipped at and sucked small love bites into the sensitive skin where your neck and shoulder met. “Hwa,” you breathed out, back arching slightly, pressing your chest against his. “Hmm?” he hummed in response, his tongue gliding over your pulse point and up to the base of your ear. “I need you,” you whispered.

“Needy little baby,” Seonghwa said as he let out a chuckle and shifted slightly, pressing that mound at the base of his torso against your wet core. “Does my little angel need me?” he cooed in your ear. “Wants me to fuck her?” You nodded, whining as he rutted against you, your arousal smearing over his skin. “Then who am I to deny her?”

He pulled back slightly and you let out a whine of protest but you quickly felt something hot and warm brush against your cunt and gasped. You tried lifting your head but Seonghwa made that impossible, taking you into a searing kiss. “Hwa,” you grumbled as his lips left yours. “I wanna see.”

Seonghwa snorted but pulled back slightly. “You wanna see what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “I wanna see it,” you said, trying to look down between your bodies. Seonghwa let out a dry laugh but obliged you, pushing himself up. Your eyes traveled down his lean body until you were met with a sight you were not expecting.

The slit had been split open and not one but two cocks had emerged. They were a pale pink color, the tips slightly red. Whether that coloration was natural or because he was aroused, you had no idea and you weren’t sure if you wanted to ask. The general shape was relatively human-like except for the head. The tip of each cock was slightly pointed, the base of the head flaring out a small amount.

The shafts were both mostly smooth with a few prominent veins. White beads of precum oozing from the slits on both. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to get a better view, lips parting in awe. Seonghwa watched your expression, keeping an eye on your body language as you eyed him up. He knew he was quite different from a human in this regard and the look on your face was anything but disgust. There was an excited look in your eyes.

And that, in turn, excited him.

“You done staring?” he asked in an amused tone. Your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Sorry,” you whispered as he leaned over you, lips inches from yours. “It’s just so different.” Seonghwan hummed in response, lips brushing against yours as he leaned in closer. “You like what you see?” he asked softly. You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as his lips ghosted over yours before kissing you softly.

“You want both of them at the same time?” You let out a sound between a moan and a sob. “Yes,” you groaned as his lips kissed slowly along your jaw. “I want both of them in me.” Seonghwa held back the growl that rumbled in his chest. “Let’s start with just one,” he murmured in your ear. “On your stomach for me, baby.”

You quickly got up, turning to face the table. Before you could actually climb onto it, Seonghwa bent you over the edge, pressing your chest against the wooden surface. “I’ll go slow,” he said softly as he leaned over your back, the tip of one of his cocks pressing against your cunt. “I promise.” You nodded in response. “I trust you,” you whispered as you felt the very tip of his cock part your folds.

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” he asked softly. You nodded wordlessly, folding your arms in front of you as he grabbed your hips, stilling behind you as he looked down at where one of his cocks was about to disappear into you. He wasn’t lying earlier, he had thought about this moment for a while now.

“Oohh shiiiit,” you groaned, burying your face into your forearm as you felt Seonghwa ease the tip of his cock into your cunt. You heard him hiss from behind you. F-fuuuuuuck,” he grunted as he bottomed out, burying all of his length into your walls.

“You feel so warm,” he muttered, one hand moving to rest against the table, the other keeping a firm grip on your hip. “S’full,” you whimpered, your walls fluttering around and gripping Seonghwa’s cock as your body tried to adjust and accommodate him.

“Yeah?” he asked with a slight chuckle. “You like that? You like feeling full, baby?”

You responded with a whimper as he pulled back and gave you a gentle and shallow thrust, a deep rumble sounding from his chest. Almost like a purr. “Fucking hell, so warm and tight,” he said again, marveling at how strong of a grip you had on him.

“It’s like you’ve never been fucked.”

You groaned as he picked up the pace, his hips hitting your ass with each thrust with a slap. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Seonghwa hissed, slowing his hips. “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he growled.

That being the constricting of your walls around his cock. “I c-can’t control that,” you gasped as he gave you a deep thrust. “Well try, damnit,” he huffed. “I don’t want this to end before it’s really even started.” You cried out as he gave you another deep thrust. “Ooh, that’s new,” he said cheekily, repeating the same action. “Your neighbors might not enjoy all the sound though.”

You had no chance or urge to respond as he picked up the pace again, pounding into you from behind. “What? No snarky comeback this time?” he asked, chuckled as you shook your head, unable to speak. The wood under you creaked as he leaned over, placing his other hand on the table for leverage.

“You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you,” he whispered in your ear. As if to drive his point home, he shoved all of his cock into your cunt and held it there, enjoying the way you struggled against him and whimpered. “Feels that good, huh?” he whispered as you started to relax under him.

You felt the tip of his tail curl around your ankle. “I can feel your heart pounding,” he murmured, lips tailing along your shoulder as his chest dressed against your back. “I can hear it. I can smell you,” he continued. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

You nodded, shuddering as he started to pull back and resume thrusting. “I never would have pegged you to be a monster fucker,” he chuckled. You let out a groan as you felt the pad of his thumb press against your asshole. “What’re you -ah!” you gasped as he slowly pushed the tip of his thumb into you. “If you want to take both, I should probably prepare you,” he said softly.

Your walls clenched around his cock and he groaned, movements halting momentarily as he tried to regain his composure. “I told you to stop doing that,” he said in a low voice as he pushed his thumb further into you. You moaned against the wood of the table. Seonghwa quickly withdrew his thumb, letting a drop of spit fall onto your asshole before pushing two fingers into you, making you gasp, your hands balling into fists. “You okay?” he asked softly as he stilled.

You nodded. The intrusion, while welcome, still stung slightly. Seonghwa gave you a moment to adjust, slowly working your hole open, stretching slightly as he moved his fingers in and out of you. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stretch you fully,” he murmured as he felt his cock inside your walls twitch. “It’s fine.” you said in a breathless voice. “Just put them both in.”

Seonghwa grimaced at the thought of roughly shoving his cock into you, knowing it would hurt you greatly. “No,” he murmured, shaking his head. “We’ll just have to be patient.”

Your body had started to relax as he moved his fingers in and out of you slowly. After what felt like hours but was definitely only a few hours, he finally pulled his fingers out of you, resuming his thrusting. His pace was slow but the thrusts were powerful, rocking you into the table with each snap. Your hands tried to find purchase on the table as he continued to fuck you against the wooden surface.

“Oh fuck this,” Seonghwa suddenly growled, pulling out of you completely. You whined in protest but when he easily flipped you over onto your back you stopped whining. He lined both cocks up with your holes, the first sliding into your cunt easy but the second needed some guidance and coaxing. He managed to ease the tip into your ass, making you gasp as you felt the head of his cock slowly start to stretch you further.

“Hey, hey,” he said suddenly, noticing your body tense up. “Relax,” he whispered. “It’s gonna hurt but only for a bit,” he added. You nodded up at him, taking a deep breath and letting out. As you exhaled, he pushed more of the head into you, the flared base of his cockhead stretching you more before it finally slipped snugly inside. Seonghwa paused, letting your body adjust, gently stroking your thighs and whispering words of praise and encouragement in your ear.

When you had relaxed even more, Seonghwa continued to push into you, both cocks filling your holes simultaneously. It was an entirely different experience, looking up into his green eyes as he pushed back into you slowly. You tried to maintain eye contact but your eyes betrayed you, rolling back as both cocks bottomed out.

“Oh I like this more,” he chuckled, stilling as he let you adjust once more. After a few minutes, he started to move, setting a steady pace, pumping into you as he watched your face contort in pleasure. “I like being able to see your face. See the expressions you make as I fuck you,” he said as his pace increased, starting to pound into you.

The feeling was foreign but you enjoyed it. Both holes being filled at the same time provided a new type of pleasure, one you’d never even considered before. You knew after this, there would be no going back to normal men or normal sex. Not when you had Seonghwa in your apartment. As if he read your mind, Seonghwa spoke up, repeating the same sentiments you’d thought to yourself.

“I don’t think I could give this up,” he groaned, hips hitting the back of your thighs and ass with each powerful thrust he gave you, the sound of skin hitting skin and the wet lewd sounds of his cocks slamming into you filling the apartment. “Now that I’ve had a taste,” he added.

“Gonna wanna fill you every night.” You moaned in agreement, knowing that your nightly routines were about to change forever. “Would you let me?” Seonghwa asked breathlessly as his hips stuttered. “You gonna let me fuck you every night now?” You nodded, moans raising in pitch as he continued to snap his hips, driving his cocks into you.

Your lips parted, a moan falling past them which was soon swallowed by Seonghwa as he leaned down, taking your lips in a messy kiss. His hips never faltered, his thrusts growing erratic as he drove both of you to orgasm. His tail was still curled around your ankle as he gave you a couple more thrusts, throwing you over the edge. Your walls tightened around his cock as you came, pushing him to his own climax.

Each moan you let out he swallowed eagerly as he fucked you both through your respective highs, emptying a ridiculous amount of cum into your abused holes until he finally stopped moving, his thick sticky cum dripping out of you and onto the floor. Neither of you spoke, only panting against each other as you tried to catch your breath and process what just happened.

Seonghwa finally pushed himself up, using the table for support as he looked down at you. “I think…” he started, speaking between each labored breath. “We should get cleaned up.” You nodded, your chest rising and falling with each pant. “I think that’s a good idea,” you croaked. Seonghwa smirked down at you as you licked your lips and tried to sit up. “What?” you asked, noticing the hungry look in his eyes.

“Round two in the shower?” he asked eagerly. You scoffed. “You just came! And a lot I might add,” you protested, feeling even more of his cum spill out of you. Seonghwa leaned in, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You forget I’m not human,” he murmured against your lips. “So?” you asked in between kisses.

“I have a lot more stamina than anyone you’ve ever fucked,” he continued, pulling back and giving you another smirk before kissing you once more. You felt heat settle in the pit of your stomach as you remembered the two cocks that had emerged from the slit, both pink with pointed reddened tips. A fresh wave of excitement and arousal coursed through you at the prospect of being filled with both of them, something you had begged for earlier. Seonghwa, sensing your excitement, gave you another couple of kisses.

“And besides,” he added. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

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letorip · 3 months ago

Text

kiss with a fist [iii]

"your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you can't help but feel like maybe you and tara are more than frenemies, and it culminates in a night where you finally share some truths with each other.

warnings: a somewhat traumatic dream sequence lmao, mentions of sex, kissing (almost), curse words, blood

word count: 5.8k

A/N: hope y'all like this one because i definitely liked writing it. definitely a whole lot more kissing than fisting.... wait a minute....

it's 5 am, my ass is grass. anyways, part 4 relatively soon because woo wee theres still so much to explore in this story i legitimately cant believe my idiot self said it'd be done in 2 parts originally

===+++===

"(Y/n)," a voice calls to you, sing-song and sweet as your eyes fade to darkness. It's a gentle woman's whisper, but it manages to hit you like a truck, pulling you down from wherever you came from, and plopping you wherever you've arrived. Or, rather, wherever you've always been. "(Y/n), look, darlin'."

A gust of wind gently strokes over the plane of your cheek, and when you open your eyes, all you can see is rye. On one end, it reaches out towards a sharp cliff, overlooking a lake, with nothing but rocks and the water below. On the other, it runs far up the plains of land in front of you, stopping in front of the white house you know all too well, with its rickety porch and broken tire swing.

You take a few steps forward, as if ready to run right inside, and then before you know it, you're running. Like the world is about to end, like the house is burning down, like you'll never see the place ever again. Foot after foot, you dash towards it, hearing Alisha's piano flit through the front window for the first time in years, and the smell of a pie right along with it. "(Y/n)!" the voice calls again. "Dinner time, kid!"—

But your foot catches on a root, just like it did in your memory, and in an instant, you've fallen down into the rye, with a painful thud, right on your face. You let out a grunt, feeling the dirt on your new, white shirt. The one your mother never let you wear when you were playing outside.

And when you right yourself again, sitting up out of the field, the house isn't any closer than it was before. It sits, perfectly far away, only all that stuff is gone now, and the house looks about as dark as it did the day of Mitchie's funeral.

"(Y/n)!" an excited voice calls from behind you. "Wanna play tag?"

"(Y/n)'s too old for that, Mitchie," another voice chides, and you whip around like Calvin would actually be there to chide him like that. Like he used to. But he isn't. All you can see is the rye. It stands in thick stalks, reaching up to your knees in lush groupings, tall and abundant, strong and growing.

Another voice. "Read me a story?" It's soft and it's a little girl's and it's far away, and you get to your feet and spin in a circle, waiting for her to appear. It seemed to reverberate through your ears, washing through the pathways of your brain before seeping into your heart. It fills it up, and before you know it, you can feel yourself hastily searching for her.

"'Randa?" you called into the open field. "Miranda? You there?" but she continues on like she didn't hear you.

"Would you read me a story? Please?"

"I will Miranda, but where are you?" you called back, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the barrel of the hot sun.

"I'm gone, (Y/n). You're supposed to be gone too," she says back, with a sweet giggle. "Why aren't you gone with us?"

"I—" you stammer, whipping your head around the field in search of your siblings. "I don't—"

"Do you really think that's fair, (Y/n)?" Calvin asks.

"Why aren't you here, (Y/n)?" Miranda asks again, this time her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Why aren't you in the rye with us?" Your hands came up to your head, trying to squeeze your eyes shut and block out the noises, but they seemed to reverberate into your skull.

"Mitchie was your fault, you know," Peter chides. "We would've never let that—"

"—Why did you get to stay, (Y/n)?" Came Tomas' voice. "We're supposed to be cursed, and you're supposed to be cursed too." He was always the quiet one, but now his voice had a sharp edge to it. One of jealousy. One of anger.

"Why didn't you catch me?" Mitchie asked. "If you just would've caught me..."

"Come play piano with me, I'll teach you," said Alisha, in her light, airy laugh.

"Why did it get to be you?" snarled Calvin. "And why are you getting closer to Tara? You want to curse her, too?"

"Stop—" you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

"Wanna play hopscotch?" said Mitchie.

"Do you miss us, (Y/n)?" Alisha said, in between tears.

"Yes, of course— I—" you tried, but now the voices were filling up your head, threatening to spill over and knocking you to the ground. You curled up into a ball as your brain filled up. Words piling up on top of words, piling up on top of words, about to split you open. "STOP!" you yelled.

And everything went silent. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself still in the field, but your siblings' voices had gone entirely. Now it was just you, in the field, alone with the rustling of the wind and the rye, as it grazed gently against your legs. You hadn't remembered standing up, but you were now.

In a flash, you could see a shape, running through the rye in a line that was very visible from where you were. You recognised the dark hair, and the yellow jacket he always wore. With the realisation came the looming dread, and you realised with very little time left what this exactly was a memory of.

You took off running, faster than you had to the house, faster than you had ever run, and faster than you had run then, chasing after him as he took off towards the cliff-end of your rye field. "Mitchie!" you yelled, trying to be louder than the buzzing cicadas, but it seemed the moment you yelled, the cicadas got even louder. He was too short to see over the stalks, but you could see him go, running in odd shapes as he got nearer and nearer to the cliffs edge.

"Catch me if you can, (Y/n)!" he called back with a gleeful laugh.

"(Y/n), grab your brother," called your mother. She didn't seem too worried, and she hadn't been, then. No one had been, until it was too late.

"Mitchie! Stop!" you cried out, feeling tears already beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Mitchie!" you tried again.

"Come on, you've gotta be faster than that if you're gonna be it!” Mitchie called back. "Catch me! Get me! C'mon! I'm gonna make it hard for you to win, Duck."

"MITCHIE! PLEASE!" you screamed, but all he did was giggle. “STOP! DON’T GO!” But the moment you reached the end of the rye, he was gone over the edge, just he had been when you were 13, and there was an arm shaking you awake.

===+++===

"Oh my god, you're about the least peaceful sleeper I've literally ever seen," Tara laughed, grinning at you from over her textbook. She had it pulled into her lap from her side of the table and titled against the table edge, and spread out in front of you were her papers galore, with notes scribbled all over them in preparation for her upcoming exam.

Mindy sat next to her, playing a stupid game on her phone, while Ethan was also studying in his own textbook. He had stopped trying to avoid you as much, as had Chad. You and Tara "dating" seemed to offend them less and less the longer it went on.

"Uh," you mumbled, still feeling a little bit disoriented from the dream. It was like a dose of adrenaline had been shot directly into your heart, and you struggled to adjust to the calm, peaceful library that actually was around you. "Shut up," you grumbled, but not like you were actually upset by her teasing.

Tara watched you with her eyebrows raised. "You look tired."

You sat up in your chair, running a hand through your hair. There was a small layer of sweat on your forehead. "Aren't you never supposed to say that to someone? Pretty sure that's how you get someone at the bar to throw their drink in your face."

"It is," Ethan nodded. "I made that mistake once. I was trying to be sweet."

"Good thing I'm not seducing you, then," Tara shrugged. "You've seen me puke everywhere. Pretty sure that ruined my chances right-out, and yet you love me anyways."

You grinned, leaning back to stretch out your arms. It was meant to be a gentle teasing from Tara, but you had only gotten better and better at deflecting the longer you were around her. "You'd be surprised, actually. That was super pretty. That was the prettiest you've ever been." Mindy snorted next to Tara.

Tara glared at you, unappreciatively. "And you're pretty when you do not speak."

"I'm pretty all the time, Tara," you mockingly shook your head. "And you think I'm joking. Find yourself a girl who looks nice covered in sweat, with her hair going everywhere, and puking in the toilet. That's my girlfriend."

"You're such a dick," Tara scoffed, but you could tell part of her was stifling a laugh. It was funny to her too, and you both had laughed at it together for days, afterwards.

If anything, it had gotten easier and easier, to act like the both of you were actually dating. You weren't too sure why, maybe Tara had become less annoying, or you had become less annoyed by her, but you had definitely at least become a better actor. That's what it was, after all. "Oh, also," she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Someone tried to call your phone, while you were sleeping. I think it was your dad."

You frowned. "You didn't pick up, right?"

"No," Tara said, shaking her head. Then she paused. She dropped her voice to speak just to you, guarding the conversation from Mindy and Ethan. "Do you and him not get along?"

You shrugged. "Eh. He was probably just checking in. We have a fine relationship." It wasn't true but it was an easy lie, that rolled off the tongue like nothing. He had already called twice, that day, and you knew why.

"Seriously, though," she said with a frown, looking up from her book. "You look fucking horrifying—"

"—Thanks," you said, flatly.

"—I mean, even more than normal, it's crazy—"

"—Thanks," you repeated.

"—Have you not been sleeping, or something?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I'm an architecture major, and it's midterms... so not really."

"Hm."

"What?" you asked, propping your head up on your arm. "What's the 'hm' for?"

She shrugged, trying to turn back to her textbook. "Hm, nothing."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at her. "Well, obviously the 'hm' was something, Tara." Mindy shot you a look again.

"Or it was just a hm."

“Would you two shush,” she said to you, rolling her eyes. “You bicker like an old married couple.” But you both ignored her.

"It's never just a 'hm.'"

"I say hm all the time. It's literally just a hm."

"No, it means you've got something to say but don't want to say it."

She frowned at the accusation but was obviously even more displeased that you were correct. "I was gonna suggest we go to the OBK party tonight, but maybe you should just go home and sleep. I was trying to be nice.”

You shrugged. "I won't be doing either, actually." Tonight was not the night for parties. You were somewhat grateful, that you had a legitimate excuse to busy your time, or else you would've spent even longer thinking about the dream. "I have to do homework. My final is due tomorrow."

Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you. "Wait, but I thought classes ended today."

You shook your head. "Nope. I've still got some stuff do."

"Oh," Tara frowned.

"Not all of us can have easy majors," you teased, trying to lighten the mood away from what was clearly concern.

"Hey! You chose the stupid thing," Tara shot back. "Not my fault I chose something fun." She stood up, gathering her things into a neat stack. The time was nearing for her midterm exam, and you stood up with her, grabbing her textbook to be helpful.

"Thanks," she said, then she wandered over and held out her hand. You grabbed it in yours, lacing your fingers together, just like you had practiced together.

The library was a tall building on the far side of campus from where you lived. It was a trek and a half to get there, which is partially why you had been a little annoyed, when Tara said she needed to go there. It ended up being the perfect place to fall asleep in, with the quiet signs and only a few murmurs now and again, and though it had been a less than peaceful dream, it was more than you had been getting for the past few days.

"I don't see why you can't just go without me," you shrugged, adjusting her book in your hands. "Just tell Sam I'll meet you there. Besides, Chad and Mindy are going to the same party, right?"

"Yeah, but I what if they realise you're not actually there and mention it to Sam, or something? And, I'd have to go there alone, since Chad and Mindy are going early."

"They are?"

"Yeah. Helping with set up. Mindy literally just mentioned that. Shows how much you listen to her.” She shook her head in a mocking disappointment in you.

“I was asleep, jerk.”

“I know,” she said, grinning.

You looked down to her, where she walked next to you, gently swinging your joint hands back and forth. "It's not a far walk to OBK. You could probably make it there in five minutes. It's well-lit, and—"

Tara frowned, shaking her head adamantly. "Not alone. Not without you, no way. Sam would want to see you at the door to pick me up. She'd probably hate the idea of it."

"Fair enough," you shrugged. "Find a movie at home tonight, then. Relax, or something. I'd kill to be done with this stupid project."

"What are you even making?" Tara groaned, breaking your hands to shove hers into her pockets. Actually, it was your jacket, and therefore technically your pockets too, but she had taken a liking to it, after your date. You had been less than pleased, when she asked to borrow it, considering how much the jacket meant to you, but she insisted it was assisting her to keep up the act. You figured you could part with it, at least for a little while.

"Architecture," you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tara rolled her eyes at you. She nudged you, and you couldn't help but laugh as her elbow pointed into your side.

"Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"

"I'm hilarious."

"You wish..." she scoffed, shaking her head.

It was a beautiful day in autumn, and the weather was soon to leave the sigh of brown leaves and rainy days and move into whispery winds and icy pavement. You didn't mind winter, but you didn't like the chills, even though it was undoubtedly what gave summer's warmth a certain sweetness. Still, nothing burned like the cold.

You walked her all the way to the door of the exam hall, stopping out front to hand her the textbook you had been carrying. You went to speak, but the moment you tried to open your mouth, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your pocket, sighing and declining the call, while Tara stared at you.

"Is that your dad, again?"

"No," you said. "Telemarketer."

"Right..." she said, frowning. "You're a terrible liar."

"Am I?" you challenged. You were, it was true.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?"

“I just don’t.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m asking why, (Y/n).”

"Why don't you leave it alone?" you shot, in frustration. You could see Tara's eyes narrow at your tone, and you felt a bit bad. There was the occasional reflex still, to bite each other's heads off. You weren't sure what it was about her, but something about Tara Carpenter always seemed to rile you up inside, and do the same for her with you.

"Sorry," you said, looking down at your shoes. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Tara glared.

"Right... I'm... sorry."

Tara sighed. "I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.

You nodded. "There'll be plenty of time after this, I just need to get this thing done."

"Okay," she nodded, failing to hide her excitement. Tara seemed to really love parties, the more and more she went to, and you were somewhat glad you could help her find something she enjoyed. It was nice to see, not that you'd ever say that to her. Doing that would absolutely result in her teasing you again, or something even more annoying.

"Good luck on your test," you said.

"Good luck on your project, babe," she said, drawing the name out.

“Now who’s hilarious,” you said with an eye roll. Tara winked at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Me.”

===+++===

It seemed you were having no good luck on it whatsoever, actually. Laid out in front of you was all of your materials, in a messy pile of cut-out pieces and foam boards that were there, sure, but not likely to just jump together and put itself together on its own.

The clock had already ticked away to 12:33 in the morning, and your design was barely finalised to where you could get to work and finish quickly. All of the other students had left at a much more reasonable hour, and it left you standing at your table alone, quietly working to classical music in the empty modelling lab.

At this rate, you could be here for another two or three hours, and the project was due at eight. You were sluggish, slowly working through the plans you had set out days ago and working through the kinks.

Every few minutes, when you stopped for even a second, the dream seemed to rush back to the forefront of your brain. Your mother had been the one to call, that evening while you were eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and you had declined that call just like you had declined all the rest.

You were hunched over your work, probably unhealthily so, with your face buried in your iPad, hastily throwing out sketches of the various shapes. You were settling on a design that would have to do, heading for the woodcutter, when you heard a noise.

It resembled a door shutting, and you froze right where you were. "Greg?" you called out. There was no one else in the building except for you and Greg, at his usual security post, and you waited with bated breath for him to return your call.

But there was no response, and all you could hear was the sounds of classical music gently floating in the background. Usually, it set you at ease while you worked through whatever you were doing in the lab, but now all it did was raise your heart rate to match the increasing tempo. It was completely dark, except for the overhead light above you, which illuminated the table you were working at and a few of the stainless steel cabinets that held tools and supplies.

Then, off to the side, you heard a rolling. An odd, wooden rolling, slowly drifting towards you. On the ground was a pencil, gently pushed towards you, playfully rolling as if perfectly in front of your toes. You hopped to your feet. "Hello?" you called, squinting in the dim light, in case anyone else was there. "Is anyone there?" you called out again. "Greg?"

Now you could really feel the thumping of your heart. The modelling lab had always been creepy late at night, but this was a new level of unease. It was as if someone was watching you, playing with their food, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "Is someone there?" you said to the rest of the room.

"Hey!" said a voice, and you jumped what felt like five feet into the air.

"Fuck!" you shouted, spinning around and seeing Tara behind you. She jumped at your reaction, raising her hands up. In one of them was a tray with two coffees on it. “You scared me!”

"Woah, woah, are you okay?" she asked, face etched with concern. She walked towards you slowly, and you put your hands on the edge of the table, trying to calm yourself.

"Don't just sneak up on me like that, dude," you glared at her.

"I literally didn't, I fucking announced myself, loud as can be," Tara said, rolling her eyes at you. Then, it melded into concern. "How long have you been here?" she asked, looking around the place and its emptiness.

"Since I left you at your test," you shrugged. "How'd it go by the way?" Tara's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring your question instead for one of her own.

"Did you at least eat dinner, or something?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Good."

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, turning back to your work. “How did you know where I was?"

“I asked Chad. He’s still a little snippy with me about, well, thinking we're together. Tried to tell me that if anyone would know, it would be me, and I said, yeah, that’s true, but it’s only been three months, now.”

“Well,” you said, gesturing around to the lab. “This is the modelling lab.” You were a bit of a nerd about the whole place, showing it off like it was your cool superhero lair.

“I know,” Tara mocked. “I saw it on the giant sign above the front door.”

“Ha ha. Does Sam know that you’re here?” You asked, grabbing your pen and resuming your work while you continued to talk to Tara. She plopped herself down on the edge of the table, letting her feet swing.

She looked a bit sheepish at the question. “Uh… no.”

“You know she’ll kill me like she did that one time, if you’re not home when she wakes up,” you frowned, wandering over to the supplies and grabbing out a box cutter to help trim the pieces you needed.

Tara nodded. “I know. But I snuck out, so I’ll sneak back in.”

You turned back around to reply, maybe say something stupid, but you had to stop yourself from laughing, when you saw her legs hanging off the counter and not reaching the ground.

“What?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head and returning to the table. “…Dwarf.”

“Hey!” she said, smacking you on the arm. “I brought you coffee, don’t make me take it back.”

“That’s true,” you frowned, weighing your options. “Guess I can’t make fun of you; you brought me caffeine.”

“That’s more like it."

You worked in silence for a few minutes, feeling Tara watch your every movement. It was harder to work, under her scrutiny, but you were grateful that she was there. It wasn’t lonely in there, any more. A few months ago, you would’ve hated her guts for sitting around while you attempted to work. But not with Tara anymore. Not on that day.

“This might be an all-nighter,” you warned, sending her a small smile as you sliced a piece of foam in half and went to work to attach it to your board.

“Fine with me,” Tara shrugged. She just continued to watch you, in a calm silence. “Actually, I have beef with you,” she hummed.

You laughed, looking up while you secured the base with glue. “Why’s that, Tara?”

“You got that song, stuck in my head.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“The one you sang for me. I found it online.”

“Which one?” you teased, smiling again. Your face was tired and the smile certainly didn’t help, but you couldn’t help the newfound peace washing over you again. You had completely forgotten the weird happening from earlier.

“You know, don’t play dumb.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I really don’t know.”

“You literally do,” Tara scoffed.

“Sing a little bit. Refresh my memory.”

“Nuh uh,” she said, crossing her arms. “This is a trap.”

“It isn’t,” you insisted, sticking your pinky out to her. “Swear.”

She wrapped it in her own, rolling her eyes. She definitely knew it was, but she obliged anyway. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a strangerrr. You know in the end,” her voice broke on the low note like yours did, and you laughed while heat rose to her cheeks. “I’ll always be thereeee.”

“And when you’re in doubt,” you sang back to her, in between laughs. “And when you’re in dangerrr.” You both were tone deaf and the rendition was awful, but the mood in the lab was getting lighter and lighter the longer you were together.

“Take a look all around,” Tara sang, coming back in. “And I’ll be there.”

It was impossible not to laugh at how bad it was on both sides, and you grinned at her toothily, before turning back to your work. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome, idiot,” she teased, nudging you in the side again.

===+++===

You went back to working on your model, finishing the first floor in about an hour. You and Tara occasionally talked now and again, but mostly she just watched you while you worked. “Why are you doing this all tonight?” she asked.

“Uh…” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time the past couple weeks…cause of… well, you.”

She shot up to her feet, mouth dropping open. “Why the hell didn’t you say no to me?! I didn’t know you had all this to do.”

You shrugged. “I never mentioned it. Plus, you were having fun. I’m glad someone was enjoying themselves.”

“Oh…” she said, and it sounded small.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“…Nothing."

“It’s fine, Tar. Seriously.” She blinked at you.

“Tar?” she asked, looking amused.

You looked up from your work, feeling the change in the atmosphere. “What?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just never used the nickname for me, before.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Is it weird?”

“Well… no. I kind of like it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding a little. “My mom was the one who gave me the nickname Tar. Haven’t spoken to her in a little while, though.”

“Do you still miss her?” you asked, glueing your second story onto the base successfully.

“Sometimes…” she trailed off, staring out at the pitch black night through the window that hung over your workspace. "She calls me once in a while."

"Do you answer?" you asked.

"No," she admitted. "It's usually about Woodsboro. I gave up on her a few months ago, but she still calls sometimes about the town."

"You never talk about it..." you comment, trailing off with a hand on the back of your neck. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." You leaned back against the table with a curiosity, watching her face move as she struggled to answer.

"Well... it's cause I don't want to that I don't talk about it. You know how people say that shit about manifesting happiness?" you nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "Well, I keep saying I'm fine, and I'm moving on, but it just keeps following me everywhere. It's like this chronic cough I can't shake. This constant thing. No matter how much I run, it's always there. People don't see me as anything but one of the survivors."

You swallowed, feeling her words hit you. "I know what you mean." Tara's eyes snapped down to yours, but when you didn't volunteer more information, she sighed.

You frowned, turning yourself back to your work and hunching over, so she wouldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “I, uh… I listened to that song you said you liked, too.”

“You did?” she asked, lighting up at the mention of it.

“Yeah… added it to my playlist… so…”

“So…” Tara laughed, amused by your awkwardness. It was somehow less awkward when you hated each other. The fact you could tolerate each other now was unusual but not unpleasant, and you still found yourself grappling with how pretty Tara’s eyes looked in lamplight. "If I get a nickname, you absolutely have to have one too."

You scoffed. "That's not at all what that means."

"You had to have had one at some point."

"No, I haven't had one," you said.

"Liar!" Tara said with a giggle, pointing at you with her finger. "You're so bad at lying it's remarkable. Now spill. What is it?"

"I'm not lying!" you insisted, but now you were laughing and it was even less convincing.

"C'mon, promise I won't say it in public— unless it's really bad."

You stared at her for a moment, when she clasped her hands together in a begging plea.

"Please?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pleaseeee?"

"Fine," you sighed. "My family, they used to call me Duck."

"Duck?" She asked, leaning back to look at you as if the nickname would re-contextualise your entire appearance. "Where'd that come from?"

"It's dumb. I used to wear this yellow raincoat when it was storming outside and these orange booties, so my little brother Mitchie saw me, when he was like five or six, and said I was a Duck. And so I was Duck."

She smiled at you, genuinely pleased with the explanation. "That's adorable. Where is Mitchie, tonight?"

You opened your mouth but shut it. Then, you opened it again. "Probably watching cartoons, or something. Back in Nebraska." (A/N: my ass genuinely did not know that was a U.S. state until right now)

You couldn't tell her that today was the day he had died, several years ago. That a year or two before that had happened, Calvin had gone, and a few months before that, Tomas and Alisha had passed too. That Peter had gotten sick, or that Miranda had gone missing before any of that mess had happened. That you were the only one left.

It was a bad lie, and probably one you would regret later, but it was one you ushered past, and Tara didn't seem to pick up on. From one cursed person to another, you figured it was probably best that you keep your own curse to yourself. It's part of what had made you hate Tara so much at first. She walked around knowing her days were likely numbered, so carefree and careless. And then there was you, you who was so careful in order to keep living.

But you couldn't resent her for that. It had melted away with seeing the Tara underneath. The real, beautiful Tara underneath.

"Duck is good, though. I'll bring it out when I want to embarrass you," Tara smiled, inching closer on the table.

"Yeah?" you grinned back at her, standing up to gently tap against the glue. It was set, and your model was finally finished at 4:42 in the morning. Tara leaned close, watching the glue with her own eyes, cheek almost up against yours in curiosity.

You finished the thing, looking over at her and her large, warm brown eyes, staring at the model you had made with so much curiosity and genuine interest. Tara hadn't lifted a finger to help, but you couldn't help but feel like it was partially hers.

You went to pull back but found your face turning towards hers, looking at each other for a long moment. Your eyes lingered on the slope of her nose, down to the curvature of her soft lips, turned up in the corners like Tara always did when she smiled. They looked so soft, and before you knew what was happening, you could feel Tara's hands coming up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently stroking against the skin there.

You couldn't breathe, feeling the warmth of the pads of her fingers on your face and the faint brush of her breath upon your nose. "Tara," you whispered. The pull was magnetic, and just as you were about to say to hell with it all, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and you both leapt apart from each other.

You wandered a few feet away, trying to seem busy while she answered it. You could feel Tara watching you while she spoke on the phone, so you did your best to hide the blush that was certainly spread wide across your cheeks.

This was the very girl you had spent the past several months hating. You suddenly felt dizzy, like the world would slip out from under your feet. Tara, the very same annoying girl who had pestered with you and bickered with you. The one who had so much more to her that what you had ever thought possible. The one who drew you in. The one in search of a hook up, for which you were only the decoy. You cleared your throat, whipping around when you heard Tara say "What?!"

"What's wrong?" you asked. "What's going on?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at you like she was about to cry. "They're questioning Sam again. They think Ghostface is back."

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN anyways my ass is going to bed now. also i do not recommend anyone lie to someone they're interested in about who they are, ESPECIALLY an attempted murder victim

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n

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sleepingdeath-light · 2 years ago

Note

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent��s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

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localkiss · 3 months ago

Text

A (not so) Drunken Mistake

pairings: best friend re2!leon x fem!reader

cw: clumsy, awkward shit, desperation, bad fluff (sry), first time, CONSENT CONSENT CONSENTT KING, creampie, shower time, mentions of alcohol, oral (f receiving), hand job, overstim a lil bit, hella dirty talking, light choking, multiple orgasms, soft dumbification, and nipple play. Lmk if I missed anything!

wc: 3.9k

dedicated to the lovely: zoepallvc !!

tags: @adiorxia @admirxation @rigorwhoring @nilpill @lottiies @leonkennedygvrl @leonsdolly @dilfstar @gettingsilly @bonnibuckets @bunnyclaire @dollfacefantasy ahh just tagging all my moots 😣!!

Awkward confessions being blurred out as you two were drinking in this living room. Soft shades of warm hues painting your skins, flushing out the cool tones of the night sky. His hand on yours, mouth slotting against yours as if it were natural. Normal.

Both of you couldn't help yourselves anymore. The tension was thicker than oatmeal and ice cream cake. Soft giggles and blows into the wet caverns as you clumsily clashed teeth against teeth. Hot breaths of alcohol waft through the air. The bottles of Mike's Hard Strawberry Lemonade and a bottle of Crown Royal Whisky strewn across the coffee table. Alongside keys and stacks of mail, unopened.

His hands travel across the bumpy surface of your body, mapping out every single dip. Being careful not to squeeze too hard or grope you in places neither of you are ready to explore with one another. If he wasn't drunk, he would've stopped at every inch and looked at you for confirmation.

Your hands too, roamed wildly on his body. A soft gasp left you as soon as he guided you to his lower abdomen. Wanting—no—needing you to touch him. To give him the same attention he's giving you. Of course, the amount will almost never be the same. It's okay though, minds too heavy to even think rational thoughts. So who gives a fuck if he loves you more. Gives you more attention and doesn't expect the same amount back. It's been like this since day one.

Leon has always had your back, especially during your childhood years. Both of you stuck to each other like glue. Always helping you when a guy gave you trouble or rejected you. Wished it was him that you imagined between your thighs. To be the first one to take your virginity with everything. But he thought it was too much to even ask for. So he settled with just staying best friends with you.

Of course, alcohol gave him the courage to even be doing this to you right now. But he knows better than to sleep with you instantly. Got to take things slow… to woo you over and make you yearn for him to be inside of you. To desire him pounding you with all of his might.

You've seen his build many times, gulping as his arms got bigger than they used to be. When small veins would pop up on his forearms or his hands, it made your mouth just start pooling up.

Or when the two of you would play fight, feeling his arms easily wrap around you and trap you against his body. One arm around your shoulders and the other around your delicate waist.

Tossing and turning, you wearily remember last night. The kisses and heated touches you guys exchanged. Good god. You groan and flip over, reaching for Leon.

“Leon. Wake up,” you croak out, rubbing your face with the palms of your hands.

He grumbles, moving his legs, slowly waking up from the sound of your voice. He rolls over to his side, hands finding you and pulling you close to his bare chest.

Your hands push up against his pecs, shaking him slightly. Giving him a few nudges with your feet, feeling his warmth soak into your skin like water. Makes you feel sleepy but you know you shouldn't fall back asleep. You have to get up and take care of your headache and relieve yourself!

He opens his eyes slowly, a small smile creeping up on his lips. A toothy awkward smile. “Good morning beautiful,” he hums huskily.

Doughy thighs squeezing together instinctively from the sound of his voice. Fuck. How did you even stay around him without jumping his bones?

“Good morning,” you shyly sputter out, looking into his baby blue eyes. Fluttering your eyelashes a few times. Make sure you aren't dreaming of this whole scenario out. Daydreaming even. Maladaptive type shit.

His thumbs gently trace your lower back, his pupils dilating into heart shaped you swear.

You both could stare at each other for hours, if only you didn't have to piss so fucking bad. Might explode if you don't get up any time soon. Well, maybe not explode per say, but your kidney would sure appreciate it if you peed sooner than later!

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you tap on his arms, signaling him to move them. “I gotta go pee real quick,” shuffling out of the bed in his shirt and your underwear.

Making a quick pace, getting into the bathroom and shutting the door. Relieving yourself with a sigh. Getting up, flushing the toilet, and washing your hands before Leon rattles his knuckles on the door.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah, hold on.” You open the door, seeing him stand there with his hip slanted, arm leaning against the door frame. Of course his lips are painted in a smug sort of smile.

“Let's shower together baby,” he comes up, wrapping his arms around you loosely. Coaxing you into this idea with soft kisses and soft touches. Feeling you relax into his body, practically slumping against him. Cute, he thinks.

Hearing you mumble out an “okay”, he takes the prerogative to slip his shirt off of you. You lift your arms and he tosses it to the ground. Following his actions, you slip your panties off.

Shyly standing before him as his eyes take over you hungrily. Leon hums in appreciation, his hands slowly running up your arms, over your shoulders, and down your chest. Taking his sweet time to appreciate every single thing on your body. Every curve, pimple, dimple, and strand of hair he can see with his eyes.

This man is in love with you. Clear as day!

You tremble with anticipation and adrenaline, feeling goosebumps chasing after his warmth. Letting out a low moan as he cups your breasts in his gigantic hands. Well… they're bigger than your own, that's for sure. You are positive he can hear each breath you take and exhale out through your nose.

He lets go of them after a few soft squeezes. His index and thumb encapsulate your perky nipples, tweaking them curiously.

A zip of pain mixed with slight pleasure swirls around your areolas. Almost buckling from the sight of him and feel of his fingers. “Leon…” you whimper impatiently, hands coming up to tug on his boxers with little force.

“Shh.. I got you princess,” he gives you an idiotic grin. Slowly dipping down to press his lips against yours, teasing you with little licks of his tongue, and soft nibbles.

Groaning when you pull him down by the neck, arms wrapped around him like he's gonna disappear soon. Meanwhile his hands push his briefs down enough for them to fall down his legs.

Soon after he grabs your thighs, directly underneath the cuff of your ass. Picking you up with ease and moving you to the countertop, right next to the sink. His hand moves up to your waist and the other moves to the back of your head. Slowly pulling away and tilting your head back, trying not to pull too hard.

Groaning as you whine and paw at him needily. His lips mark his way down south, stopping to attack your neck with hickeys. Feeling your hands grip at his soft light brown hair. Giving it a few tugs and he bites down slightly harder on your chest. Of course he has to give the same treatment to the other side, kissing the valley of your breasts.

Feeling your stomach tighten up, you wonder if he actually is a virgin like you. How is he so good at making you breathless?

His lips wrap around your nipple and suckles on it, teeth grazing bud making you gasp. Hot wet tongue swirling around it, humming as you moan and press his face further into your tit. Leon's warm hands rub against your back soothingly as his eyes flutter, looking at your reaction.

Pulling away, a string of spit connecting himself to you. Moving to give attention to the other side. He's like making out with your tits, humming and moaning like he's getting action too. His eyes dart up to you, pupils absolutely swallowing his irises. He looks so drunk off of just kissing your chest.

“Can I go further, baby?” Leon's hands slip down to your thighs, giving them a squeeze.

You open them instinctively. Allowing your sensitive parts to be visible to his eyes. Watching his eyes quickly flit down and stare at it. Zoning out practically.

“It's so pretty, “ He coos, pushing your legs wider and spreading your cunt open with his thumbs.

You twitch from how close he is and whine at his compliment. Hands giving his hair a tug closer to your body. Leon chuckles, pressing his lips on your inner thighs, teasing you by nearing where you want him.

Repeating the same process on your other thigh. Leaving little marks wherever his lips collide with your soft skin. “Mhmm… fuck. Smells s’good. Can't wait any longer, beautiful.” He sticks his head further between your doughy thighs, tongue sticking out.

Making contact with your sopping wet cunt. Breath fanning your glistening folds as he just licks it like a candy. Sloppily wrapping his lips at the top, looking up at you like he wants to ask where your clit is.

“Mmph.. Leon it's here,” you lift the hood of your clit and show him it, shyly. He hums in affirmation.

Leon goes buck wild and sucks on it like crazy. Feeling your hips jolt towards him. His gorgeous blue eyes flutter shut, getting lost in the sauce. Your sauce. Sweet and tangy as he's trapped in the smell of you. So overwhelming in the best way possible, really.

You can tell he's enjoying this more than you are. With the way he's moaning and groaning, so much louder than you. The vibrations add fuel to the growing fire in your stomach. You spread your legs just a bit further apart. Making room for his head.

“Leon,” you mewl loudly. Pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Please…” not sure what you are begging for. But he understands right away.

His right hand slides away from your thigh, fingers teasing around your drippy hole. Slowly pushing his middle and ring finger until he's knuckles deep. Savoring the way you clench around his thick fingers.

“So tight and warm.” He mumbles into your pussy.

Delving back in and sucking on your clit once more. Moving his fingers in and out, not trying to make it hurt. But it's so hard to be patient and not make you cry out his name. He needs to make you feel good. After all these years of playing a cat and mouse game.

Leon's been saving himself for you, hoping you did the same for him. Which he should know by now, since you both only really hangout with each other and mutual friends. Obviously you have your separate lives but it mostly overlaps with one another.

You rock your hips in time with his fingers, gasping when it hits your g-spot. Tugging on his hair to get him impossibly closer to your heat. The sounds of slurping and squelching are echoing throughout his bathroom and into his bedroom.

All this, you would've never thought would become reality. You've imagined him on top of you and whispering the naughtiest things you could think of. His hands touching everywhere on your body, his lips marking where it touches. Proudly claiming that you are his and nobody else's. Holding you extra tight when someone would flirt with you. His crystal blue eyes narrowing and a menacing aura shifting around him.

What snaps you out of your thoughts is when he curls his fingers and his teeth graze your sensitive bud. Can't help that your hands tighten around his poor strands of hair.

“You like that, baby?” Leon hums, watching your expressions intently. Figuring out what makes you tick and what you don't like. And you like this.

A soft whimper rolls off of your tongue and into his ears. It's such a beautiful melody, hearing you enjoy yourself because of him.

“C'mon princess, use your words.” He speeds up his fingers. Looking up at you like you are a god he worships day and night. A condescending tone just drips from his mouth. Acting like he can't figure it out just from the look of you.

“Y-Yeah… mmhg,” you nod your head dumbly. Feeling your thighs start to shake and your gummy walls clenching around his digits. “like it..”

Leon laughs softly and continues. Wanting to make you unravel before you both hop into the shower. It's the least he could do! He swirls his tongue around your clitoris a few times.

You let out a high pitch moan, “‘M gonna cum! ‘M gonna cum…!”

“Cum for me. Let it all out, honey.” He coos at you. His eyes are glued to your face. Watching it turn a light pink. Mouth hanging open wide. “Know you can do it for me.”

The coil in your stomach tightens with a warm gooey liquid making its way down south. It snaps when Leon bites down just a little bit harder on your bud.

All sorts of sounds spew out of your mouth. Whines, his name, and breathy moans. Your upper body starts to shake, thighs closing in on his head, squeezing him. Your stomach tenses and your body wants to curl in on itself.

Leon hums in revelation. His hand slows down to a stop and his mouth travels to your hole. Greedily licking away at your release. Needing every last drop to satisfy himself. He wishes he could store it all in a bottle and drink away at it when he misses you and your sweet cunt. Reluctantly, he pulls away, sucking at his fingers that were inside of you.

You hide your face at that, too embarrassing to watch him enjoy your taste.

“Baby,” his hands slide up around your waist. Standing up to his full height. His head dipping down into the nook of your shoulder. His hot breath tickles your skin, in all the right ways. “Think you can walk?”

You can feel his dick pressing up against your thigh, throbbing with need. It's hot and wet on your skin. “I don't know.” Is what you settle to say.

Before you take another breath, he scoops you up into his arms. Your legs immediately wrap around his fit waist. He steps into the shower and sets you back on the ground, holding onto your waist snugly. Slowly turning on the knob to the right to get the water warm.

Leon pulls the shower diverter pin to switch the water flowing down to have it flow up into the showerhead. He leads you both under the water, his other hand coming up to your eyebrows. Making sure the water doesn't get into your eyes.

Such a romantic!

Stepping closer to his body, in between his feet, you wrap your arms around him. “Do you want to do anything else?”

“Like…what?”

“Mm.. well, your dick keeps poking me…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You look up at him with a smile. Sneaking your nimble hands to it. Wrapping them both around it and slowly — but very clumsily — stroking him. Watching his face change as you continue to jerk him off. It's your turn to make him feel good. Or at least you think you should give it back.

Hearing his soft moans. Feeling his hips buck into your hand and his arm tightening around you. Leon's hand slips down to the back of your head. Dipping down to capture your lips in a kiss. His tongue prodding your lips, begging for entry. Hot breaths coming out of his nostrils against your face.

Your mind can't handle kissing him so hungrily, and making him feel good. So, you squeeze his poor cock and in return, Leon tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls it just a bit. Stumbling a bit backwards, you let go of it.

Leon pulls away and kisses around your face. So sweet.

“May I have sex with you?” His eyes blink their way down your wet body. And then back up to your eyes.

His face is flushed, his plump lips are pressed together. He just looks so divine. You want to, want to so bad.

“Yes, please.” Nodding like a madwoman, he gives you a chaste kiss. Patting your head like a cute puppy.

Turning you around and pressing down on your back gently, he goes between your bodies and grabs his length. Teasingly rubbing the sticky tip against your clit and down to your hole, not yet putting it in. Groaning when it slips a little bit into your hole.

“Are you ready, baby girl?”

“Uhuh, I'm ready Leon.” You put your hands on the shower wall as his hand grips onto your hip.

Slowly pushing his cock into you, a soft whine mixed with a moan leaves his lips. Stopping after a few inches are in your pussy. “You okay?”

“Mhmm… you feel so big, Leon.” Pressing your hips back against him as you speak.

Leon's hands grip harder onto your hips. Watching his dick disappear into your wetness. Your gummy walls clinging onto him like he should never leave. Seems like he enjoys being told that his manhood is big.

“Fuck baby, you're so… tight.” He leans down, sliding the rest inside. Groaning when you flutter around him, squeezing him harder. His hips buck and he grazes your womb.

You moan louder, trying to get used to something bigger than a tampon going in and out of you. “Please..” Wincing and involuntarily arching your back.

Leon pulls out and pushes in, a few inches at a time. After a few minutes of gently fucking you, he decides to go just a tad rougher. His eyes narrowing at your ass, watching the way it jiggles as his pelvis makes contact with it.

He's always thought you had a nice ass. Now, it's going to be forever ingrained in his mind, as it moves like water. Bouncing back onto him.

“Baby, fuck,” he whines, going faster. Hearing your desperate moans and whimpers makes all his thoughts drip down to his cock.

Leon wants to kiss you so bad. Kiss you and fondle you whilst he's pounding you. Not sure if his brain would short-circuit and ejaculate prematurely. He's too deep into you to ever want to pull out though.

His hands slide up to your breasts, squeezing them as if they were stress balls. Lowering down so his chest is merely inches away from your back. Feeling the heat radiating off of his body.

“You like that?” Breathing heavily into your ear like it's asmr. Snaking his arm around your neck, the other one wrapping around your waist. Needing you to be as close to him as possible. Even if it meant lightly choking you with his soft muscles. “Like it when I manhandle you? Mhmm, I know you do. Every time we wrestled, you think I couldn't hear you gasping and whining?”

It's dizzying how easily he can maneuver you. You can't really tell if he's trying to make you break, or if he's just talking to talk. Probably the former.

It's sort of frustrating how much he can remember and pays attention to your every little expression and noise. It's almost as if he has a small part of his brain just dedicated to you, storing everything about you there. Which really, should flatter you. Such a man wrapped around you like a vine.

“Fuck, I do. I love it,” you claw at his forearm, arching your back. Feeling the way his fat leaky tip goes impossibly deeper, curving around your squishy muscle. Unable to help yourself when your eyes roll into the back of your head, tilting back against his chest.

He's barely pulling out in this position and he groans. “Yeah, I'm always right, baby. I know you better than yourself,” he coos condescendingly. “Play with that pretty little clit of yours.” He can't help but laugh, trailing off into a whimper. Pressing kisses against your temple.

It doesn't take you long to spring a leak! With all that dirty talking he keeps mumbling into your ear. His hand groping your front side insatiably. With his stamina, really, he could go at it all night like a rabbit.

“Mmm… been dreaming of stuffing you full of my cock for a long time. Wanted to hear your pretty voice and feel you against me. Shit, this feels unreal.” Leon grunts through his teeth. Clenching his jaw tight.

Your legs almost give in, pressing back against him hard. Letting strings of cries and unimaginable sounds out from the bottom of your lungs. Feeling numb from the waist down. Luckily, Leon holds you upright, still plapping away into your soaked cavern.

“Good job. Good girl, sweet fucking—shit.” Your boyfriend growls, removing his arm around your neck to push your lips together. Swooping in for a spit filled kiss. His manhood is twitching against your womb.

“Want you to cum inside,” you lick into his mouth as he moans breathily. Pressing you tighter against him once those words reach his ears.

“Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up with my cum? Get you pregnant and—” He can't even hold on for much longer. Just the idea of pumping you full and the possibility of getting you pregnant just makes his veins jump.

Leon whimpers, spurting rope after rope of his load into your womb. Your pussy greedily latching onto him and milking him for what he's worth. He's still humping into you. Fantasizing about the day you both have a family, a white picket fence and a cute dog in the picture too.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, precious.” He hesitates to pull out, sad at the idea of his little swimmers falling out of you.

Being the good guy he is, he cleans you both off. Massaging your hips and lower back, fearing he went a bit too hard on you. Running the soft pads of his fingers through your hair, with you resting against his chest.

Littering your face and neck with sweet kisses. Drying you both off and placing fresh clothes on your body. Laying down in the bed, cuddling one another.

“Maybe next time, we'll do it in my bed.” He jabs your arm lightly with his elbow. Already thinking of the next time both of you will go at it like teenagers. Clumsy and desperate.

“Yeah. Maybe next time, someone will buy condoms.” And that makes him whine, pouting down at you.

“But baby,” he tugs you closer to his chest, “I'll take care of you and the baby.”

“Leon.” You whack at his chest. Trying to smack some sense into him. “We can't have kids right now.*

“Who said so?”

“Me.”

“Well, I say we can and should.”

“Huh. Whatever you say boss man.”

“Don't call me that. It sounds gross.” Leon scowls playfully, feigning disgust in his voice. His blue hues twinkled softly.

“Okay, big guy.” You erupt into a fit of laughter. Leon joined you immediately after. The vibrations buzzing against your hand on his chest. Safe and warm. Like home.

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